Divorcing The Cold Billionaire After Baby Birth

The crisp sound of heavy paper sliding across polished marble cut through the dead air of the Sterling estate's side room.

Aria Miller sat on the very edge of the velvet sofa. Her knuckles were entirely white as her fingers twisted the cheap, frayed strap of her canvas tote bag. She kept her eyes fixed on the slip of paper. It was a check. Seven figures. The zeros blurred together under the harsh light of the crystal chandelier above them.

"Take it." Victor Sterling's voice was a low, mechanical scrape. He sat across from her, leaning back in a leather armchair. He didn't look at her face. He looked at her like she was a stain on his rug. "Take it, and disappear from New York by tonight."

Aria's chest tightened. The air in the room was thick, suffocating. She tried to draw a breath, but her lungs refused to expand. She stared at the check. That piece of paper could pay off the crushing debt at her grandmother's nursing home in a second. It could save her life. But the sheer malice radiating from the man across from her made her stomach twist into a hard, painful knot.

"I didn't plan this," Aria forced the words past the sandpaper in her throat. She released her death grip on the bag and pushed the check back across the cold marble table. Her fingertips were freezing. "That night was an accident. I don't want your money."

Victor let out a short, hollow laugh. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The movement was predatory, closing the distance between them.

"Save the performance," Victor sneered, his jaw muscles flexing under his skin. "You played the long game. You targeted the trust fund. But your acting is pathetic. You gold diggers always use the same script."

The words hit her like physical blows. Aria opened her mouth to yell back, to tell him he was a paranoid monster. She planted her feet on the floor, ready to stand up.

Then, the overwhelming, spicy scent of his cologne hit the back of her throat.

A violent spasm ripped through her stomach. The acid rushed up her esophagus so fast she barely had time to react. Aria slapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes widening in sheer panic. She swallowed hard, trying to force it down, but her body was completely out of her control.

Victor watched her face turn the color of ash. His dark eyes narrowed into slits. "Still playing the victim? You think faking an illness is going to-"

Aria didn't hear the rest. She shoved the heavy marble coffee table away with her knees, the metal legs scraping loudly against the floor. She scrambled to her feet and bolted toward the hallway.

She hit the doorframe with her shoulder, stumbling into the corridor. Her vision swam with involuntary tears. She dragged her hand along the silk wallpaper, desperate.

She slammed the door open, dropped to her knees on the cold tile, and gripped the edges of the porcelain toilet bowl. She retched violently. The sound tore from her throat, raw and agonizing. Her stomach cramped so hard she couldn't breathe.

Outside the bathroom, Victor stopped. He stared at the half-open door. The horrific sounds echoing from the tile made his skin crawl. He adjusted his silk tie, his fingers rigid. Disgust rolled off him in waves. He thought she was putting on a show. A desperate, disgusting show.

"Victor!"

The sharp crack of a silver cane hitting the hardwood floor echoed from the base of the grand staircase. Madam Sterling stood there, her sharp eyes fixed on the bathroom door. She wore a tailored suit, her posture rigid.

"What in God's name did you do to that girl?" the old woman demanded, her voice echoing in the massive hallway.

Victor dragged a hand through his dark hair, his frustration boiling over. "It's a trick, Grandmother. She's trying to extort-"

The sound of running water interrupted him. Aria stepped out of the bathroom. She leaned heavily against the doorframe. Her face was devoid of all color, her forehead slick with cold sweat. Her legs shook so badly she looked like she might collapse. Her right hand was pressed tightly against her lower abdomen.

Madam Sterling's eyes darted to Aria's hand. The old woman's pupils contracted. She didn't look at Victor. She turned her head slightly. "Get Dr. Chambers. Now."

"We don't need a doctor for a scam artist," Victor snapped, stepping forward to block the hallway.

Madam Sterling slammed her cane down again, the sound like a gunshot. "Silence! Move out of the way."

Two maids rushed forward, wrapping their arms around Aria's trembling shoulders. They half-carried, half-dragged her down the hall and into a first-floor guest bedroom. The heavy oak door clicked shut, cutting off Victor's view.

Victor stood alone in the hallway. He leaned his shoulders against the wall, his jaw locked. He pulled out his phone, his thumb hitting the screen with unnecessary force. He texted his assistant, Dylan. Dig up everything on Aria Miller. Every single detail.

Ten minutes later, Dr. Chambers hurried through the front doors, medical bag in hand. He gave Victor a brief nod before disappearing into the guest room.

Inside the room, Aria lay flat on the mattress. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the doctor wrapped a tourniquet around her arm. She watched the needle pierce her vein, the dark blood filling the vial. She felt entirely helpless.

Thirty minutes dragged by. The heavy oak door finally opened. Dr. Chambers stepped out, pulling his stethoscope from his ears. His face was unreadable.

Madam Sterling gripped the head of her cane, her knuckles white. "Well?"

Dr. Chambers cleared his throat. He looked directly at Madam Sterling. "She is severely dehydrated and exhausted. And she is six weeks pregnant."

Madam Sterling let out a sharp gasp. Her hand flew to her chest. A massive, triumphant smile broke across her wrinkled face. "Praise God." she whispered, her eyes shining with sudden tears.

Victor froze and the blood drained from his face. He stared at the closed oak door,his chest stopped moving. The words echoed in his skull. Six weeks pregnant. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

He was absolutely certain now. She had used her own body to secure the ultimate bargaining chip.